


HarleQuincy

by Tybss



Category: Bleach, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Bathing/Washing, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Book of Circus, Character Death, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, F/M, Graphic Description of Corpses, Human Experimentation, Kidnapping, Mad Scientists, My First Work in This Fandom, Nudity, Physical Abuse, Sex, Smoking, Suggestions of necrophilia, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:02:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tybss/pseuds/Tybss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The King's Watchdog, Uryuu Ishida, is ordered to look into a number of Quincy disappearances, including that of his own grandfather. His investigation leads him to the mysterious Jyuuni Circus and its eccentric array of performers: Kurotsuchi, harlequin and ringmaster, scars hidden under layers of thick paint; Akon, a knife thrower with three horns growing out of the top of his head; Hiyosu, a fire breathing toad-like man; Rin Tsubokura and Kuna, two timid trapeze artists and Nemu, the beautiful melancholy tightrope walker. They may just hold the answer he is looking for. </p><p>Bleach characters in a Kuroshitsuji arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Audience

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is just an idea that struck me and I really wanted to write it. It's a Bleach/Kuroshitsuji crossover. Whilst containing the characters from Bleach, it will follow the story of the Noah’s Ark Circus Arc, although there will be a number of very large deviations. Everyone is human- no one has reiatsu, zanpaktous etc.
> 
> Most of the characters have a parallel, although I didn't pick parallels based on personality (just on role in the story). I have removed any characters I couldn't make relevant.
> 
> This is probably going to be very dark. Giselle and Twelfth Squad are in it so naturally, all of their…eccentricities…are too. I hope I didn't go OOC with anyone and I'm sorry if I did! I found it quite hard to write the characters who have only appeared in the manga, as I didn't have much of a voice to listen to. And it was pretty hard to turn a bunch of mad scientists into circus performers...
> 
> In relation to Giselle’s gender (I know people have debated it), apparently Kubo confirmed in a bonus page for chapter 615 that Giselle was born biologically male, but identifies as female and uses female pronouns. Therefore, I have used female pronouns too.
> 
> I do not own/did not create Bleach or Kuroshitsuji. The characters and the Noah's Ark Circus Arc do not belong to me. These belong to Tite Kubo and Yana Toboso respectively.

It has long been common knowledge that the ones known as the Quincy and the ones known as the Reapers were enemies. Two great clans, split apart by values and ethics, by beliefs and culture, each vying for a throne upon which only one could sit.

When war was finally declared, both sides were prepared for a great number of casualties. Their power was even, champion blade wielders and expert marksman in their thousands, with every warrior determined to prove themselves a hero. 

However, within days, perhaps hours, the Reapers lay slaughtered, leaving any survivors to flee for their lives and be forever hunted as fugitives of the kingdom. The Quincy were victorious and the bloodshed was brought to an end. 

The title of king has been passed down from generation to generation, parent to child, each stronger than the last, holding the land tightly in an iron grip. No Reaper has been discovered now for nearly 100 years. But the world lives in fear of their return and in fear of the destruction that will follow in their wake.

*

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Uryuu Ishida took a long, deep breath before placing his hand on the door to the throne room. The small piece of paper crumpled tightly in his fingers had only a few select words inked onto it; a summons that gave him no clues as to why a carriage had arrived to escort him to the palace so late at night. It was never good news when he was called upon by His Majesty and he had soon come to learn that, as the King’s Watchdog, any and all unpleasant tasks that the Royal Court wanted swept under the rug would be passed to him.

The heavy beat of rain drummed against the large windows, which for some reason made the corridor seem uncomfortably enclosed, the air thick and stuffy. Uryuu did not know why he felt so uneasy. Why his hand shook for a moment as he pushed down on the elaborate handle and used all the strength in his arms to reveal the room beyond the wooden entrance. Perhaps the fact that it was drawing close to midnight and that the darkness outside concealed many unseen evils made his heart pound slightly harder.

Upon his entrance, he strolled proudly down the room, footsteps echoing loudly. The king, Yhwach, sat rigidly on a large throne at the end of the hall, wrapped in a black cloak that swathed his entire body. He did not move as Uryuu approached him but stared intently forward as if everything was beneath him; a dark, imposing aura radiated from his majestic figure.

To his left stood a tall fair haired man, who Uryuu knew by the name of Lord Jugram Haschwalth, Grandmaster of the Quincy. As His Majesty’s advisor and most trusted servant, it was his job to ensure that loyalty and respect towards the king was maintained at all times. He gave a small approving nod as Uryuu swept back his white cape, sank onto one knee and bowed his head.

“Your Majesty.”

Yhwach did not respond, but simply lowered his gaze to the bespectacled man who knelt before him. Noticing the prolonged silence, Uryuu cleared his throat and decided to continue.

“I have acknowledged your summons and am ready to receive whatever task you may bestow upon me.”

“Uryuu Ishida.” The king spoke in a deep, gravelly voice. “I am sure you are well aware of the increasing number of Quincy disappearances within the last few months.”

Increasing disappearances? Uryuu raised his head and furrowed his brows.

“I was led to believe that only a few had gone missing? Inspector Opie informed me that the cases were all unrelated and that a few potential suspects had already been apprehended.”

Haschwalth placed one hand on the rapier he had attached to his waist and moved closer to his king, seemingly unfazed by the shadows that clung to him. He gripped the hilt tightly, knuckles paling, as a subtle look of contempt appeared on his face.

“The Jagdarmee have always been incompetent, Inspector Opie included. That is why we employ you.”

Uryuu did not reply. He had always known that most of the Jagdarmee were nothing but fools; inept pawns only interested in their own personal reputations. Their leader, Quilge Opie, was an arrogant man, often driven by his cravings for power and authority. But despite the inspector’s many character flaws, Uryuu had to admit, when it came to hunting down those responsible for crimes, the man was second only to Uryuu himself. 

Normally, the mundane investigations concerning missing persons would be assigned purely to Opie and his men; Uryuu found that the tasks generally bestowed upon him were of a political nature, dripping with corruption, deceit and secrecy. _The excuse that the Jagdarmee were failing in their task is simply a fabrication, he deduced. The fact that this case is being transferred to me could only mean that it goes a lot further than a few simple disappearances._ He swallowed thickly.

“You wish for me to take over the case?”

“You are one of my finest men.” Yhwach answered, “If I were ever to select a successor, you would be the man that I choose. I trust that such a man will be able to resolve these mysteries without too much issue.”

At this, Uryuu saw in his peripheral vision that Haschwalth tensed and clenched his jaw; a move that he tried to make go unnoticed. Yhwach continued; either Haschwalth had been successful or the king had merely chosen to ignore him.

“Particularly a man who bears such a personal connection to the case.”

“Personal connection, Your Majesty?”

Haschwalth stepped forward until his toes touched the edge of the steps that led up to the throne, towering over the crouched man. He did not look at all remorseful as he announced the news.

“Lord Ishida, the court regrets to inform you that your grandfather is among the missing.”

No words came. A hollow, empty, numb feeling slid across him. Ever since his parents had been brutally murdered, his grandfather Soken had been his only source of comfort, the only light in a child’s darkened world. It had been Soken who had shown Uryuu how to string a bow, how to feel and judge the wind’s direction and speed, how to shoot at a moving target without hesitation or regret… 

It had been Soken who had consoled him in the middle of the night, when monsters with white masks crawled from gargantuan tears in the sky into his dreams. It had been Soken who had told him stories of ancient Quincy archers who could shoot over a thousand arrows simultaneously; arrows that glowed with the energy of the world. It had been Soken who had taken up a position in the court, despite his age, in order to ensure that a young orphan was cared for.

_Grandfather…_

“This could very well be the work of the underground.” Yhwach’s rich voice broke Uryuu out of his thoughts. “It would not be the first time that the vermin of this land have crawled out of their holes to cause suffering.”

“Could it not be Reapers, Your Majesty?” Uryuu’s voice was accusatory, bitter. He felt a pang of regret as soon as the forbidden words slipped from his lips. _You know better than to mention them before His Majesty_ , he scolded silently.

With this, the king finally rose from his seat. Haschwalth took a step back and dipped his head in respect. The dark aura surrounding him seemed to fluctuate threateningly, whipping through the man’s black hair and robe like an ever growing storm.

“Do not let emotions and resentments control you, Uryuu. Could it not be the Reapers? The very idea is impossible. The Quincy have exterminated them, wiped the last few from existence. And if some did slip and wriggle away through the cracks, they would not dare to raise their blades against us again.”

“But it is still a possibility!”

Yhwach did not dignify him with an answer but merely turned with a sweep of his cloak and headed towards a door at the side of the room. Unsatisfied, Uryuu made to follow but an elegantly sleeved arm blocked his path.

“His Majesty is tired.” Haschwalth declared. “Any other discussions will have to take place tomorrow.”

Uryuu watched as the large door swung closed behind Yhwach’s departing figure. Something wasn’t sitting right with him. The king’s exit and sudden fatigue had seemed too abrupt, too calculated, as if the subject of Reapers had struck a chord. _Is he hiding something? What if the Quincy were not as victorious as we were all told? What if those murderous barbarians are still amongst us, right under our noses, plotting against the crown..._

_No, I must not question His Majesty_ , Uryuu thought. _He is right to say that the Reapers are gone forever._

“For now,” Haschwalth continued solemnly, drawing his arm back. “I would recommend that you begin your task by speaking to Giselle Gewelle. She may be more informed on the underworld’s workings than I.”

Uryuu tried desperately to hide his contempt for the woman in question.

“It is late.” Swivelling round, Haschwalth walked past Uryuu and headed towards the door the young Quincy had entered through, indicating for his companion to follow. “You may stay the night if you wish. I will have someone make up a guest bedroom for you.”

The extravagant corridor was nearly completely in darkness and practically deserted, save for a single servant who bowed to them as they exited. Haschwalth shot him a glance, at which he bowed for a second time and disappeared into the room they had just left. The blonde haired man continued walking until he heard the click of the lock, at which he stopped dead in the middle of the path.

Uryuu frowned and clenched his fist. An uncomfortable tension was rising and he had a horrible suspicion Haschwalth was going to make reference to the successor remark Yhwach had made during the meeting. Folding his arms and opening his mouth to speak, the man went to defend himself but he had not uttered a syllable before the Grandmaster began.

“Although His Majesty did not say this, I wish to make his orders quite clear. I will not allow failure when it comes to fulfilling His Majesty’s desires. If you do fail, I will personally see to it that you are punished as severely as I can manage.”

And with this, Haschwalth span suddenly on his heel and turned to stare at him directly- a cold glower from icy eyes. 

“You will find the one responsible for this. And when you do, you will dispose of them immediately.”

*

The large white entrance that introduced the quarters of Giselle Gewelle always sent a shiver down Uryuu’s spine. The woman was well known for certain rumours about her meddling with things against nature’s laws; horror stories of violated and mutilated corpses had echoed through the palace since her arrival, not at all helped by her creepy demeanour and the nickname she seemed to revel in- the ‘Zombie Girl’.

Unfortunately, after spending the night considering many alternatives, Uryuu had resigned himself to the fact that she was the only one he could talk to. As the royal coroner and undertaker, any and all bodies within the vicinity of the palace and the neighbouring towns were given to her for examination and preparation for burial. If any of the missing Quincys had turned up dead, they were undoubtedly with her.

Straightening his back, he announced himself with a small knock. There was no reply. _Perhaps I should come back another time_ , Uryuu thought in a vain attempt to get his hopes up. But the large sign that read ‘open’ in gold lettering killed those instantly. _She’s in there and leaving will only delay the inevitable_. Clearing his throat, the black haired man let himself in, a small bell ringing as he opened the door.

As he did every time he paid Giselle Gewelle a visit, he walked in cautiously, one foot at a time. The wide room was fuller than usual, a covered corpse on nearly every surface. The unnatural stillness of the chamber always elevated his pulse, making his throat go dry and scratchy, his fingers itching to reach for his bow. _They are only stories_ , Uryuu had to reassure himself. _That woman cannot manipulate the dead_.

The morgue was dark and reasonably filthy, not at all a suitable, respectful place for laying the deceased to rest. The only light came from a square window on the far side of the room, which cast long shadows across the floor. One of the shrouds had a few spots of a dark liquid on, which he could only guess was blood. 

A line of coffins decorated one of the blank white walls. Most looked nailed shut, except for one on the end that had the lid simply propped against it. Plush purple lining filled the inside and Uryuu felt his stomach drop as he saw it had been recently lain in. _Maybe she sleeps in it_ , he thought, horrified at the idea. 

“Excuse me?” Uryuu tried not to let any sign of nervousness show in his voice. “Miss Gewelle?”

“Now now, Uryuu.” a soft purr came from behind him. A cold hand ran down his chest and rested on his heart, as if its owner were savouring the feeling of the blood pumping through his veins. “There’s no need to be so formal.”

Her very touch made him want to be sick.

“I would prefer for you to address me properly.” He said coldly, pulling from her grasp. Spinning round, he found himself faced with a small dark haired girl, surely far too innocent to be the subject of such awful rumours. She wore white, as they all did at court, layers upon layers of ruffled silks, her corset emblazoned with golden buttons and clasps. Uryuu cringed at the hem of the dress, dipped in what looked like a hundred years’ worth of dirt...and blood. Did she never change? The various rips and tears in the soft fabric made him wish he’d brought his sewing kit.

Giselle pouted before sticking out her tongue. Uryuu tried not to glare, now feeling more irritated than afraid. Suddenly, changing her expression into a smile as if something had caught her eye, she gently moved across the room towards a table that lay covered in a rather soiled looking sheet. With a small giggle, she tore the material off to reveal a corpse, a large opening cut away in its head to reveal the brain. 

Uryuu sharply raised a gloved hand to his nose to stop the stench of rotting flesh from going up his nose. He didn’t want to know what she was doing with it. It looked far from the ordinary duties of a coroner and undertaker.

“What can I help you with, _Lord Ishida_?” She drawled his title but didn’t lose the inane smile on her face.

“I am here on important business, Miss Gewelle. His Majesty’s business.”

“Of course you are. You never pay me a visit any other time.” Picking up a sharp instrument, Giselle lifted her skirts, revealing her white stockings and two thin, bony legs. Without much care, she climbed onto the table until she was straddling the corpse’s torso. Uryuu looked away in horror, which she didn’t miss.

“It’s easier this way.” She batted her eyelashes playfully before sticking the object she held into the brain. The squelch was sickening, a liquid Uryuu couldn’t identify trickling out of the man’s skull and dripping onto the slab. In an attempt to distract himself, he cleared his throat and began wandering around the room, taking extra care not to touch any other of the shrouded shapes. 

“I am here to inquire if you have received and examined any Quincy bodies within the past few days.”

“I heard about your grandfather.” Giselle didn’t look at him but continued prying around the man’s head. “Is that what this is about?”

“His Majesty is concerned about the number of Quincy disappearances recently and has ordered me to investigate.” Uryuu avoided the question and was quite shocked when she didn’t push the matter any further.

A spurt of blood burst from the organ onto the white fabric of Giselle’s dress and her pale face. Without hesitation, she licked at the red drops staining her skin and shuddered with pleasure at its metallic taste, eyes practically rolling back into her head. Back arched, neck craned, she acted as if it was orgasmic, like electricity surging through her veins. Uryuu’s lip curled in disgust and he tried not to gag. _Just give me the information, you repulsive woman_ , he cursed. _Then I can leave_.

“Miss Gewelle…” He began to insist.

“Quincy bodies, was it?” She did not move from her position of euphoria. “I used to get a number of those, as much as anyone would expect. But they aren’t so common anymore. The only Quincy I get to see now are all alive.” With this, she sighed and pouted once more, as if the fact that he stood there living and breathing before he was an inconvenience.

“So you have not received any Quincys for a while now?”

“Oh, I get the occasional one. A ‘Mr Robert Accutrone’ is under that cover there.” She gestured with a bloodied hand across the room to a large white mound. “And a rather lovely young woman by the name of ‘Bambietta Basterbine’ came in a few weeks ago. I kept her for my…personal collection.” She smiled sweetly, eyes flickering to the wall of wooden coffins.

“Have you received any of the people on this list?”

Fishing around in his double breasted coat and desperately trying not to think about ‘Bambietta Basterbine’, Uryuu pulled out a piece of paper. Unfolding it delicately, he approached her, arm outstretched as far as it would go to create some distance between them. Giselle snatched it and peered down the list of names. She squinted twice before tossing it back to him.

“I don’t recognise any of them.” She practically sang, turning back to the body beneath her.

Uryuu grimaced at the fingerprints she’s left on it, gingerly holding it by the corner. 

“None of them? Are you absolutely sure?”

Giselle nodded her head. Uryuu sighed and placed the paper on the work space next to him. A dead end. _Well_ , he thought, _at least I can depart now_. He clicked his heels together and gave a small bow to the girl on the table, gritting his teeth at the sight of more dried blood in between the grey tiles.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Gewelle. I am sorry to have intruded upon you.”

He walked as quickly as he could back towards the door, trying not to look at the contents of the tables he passed. Coffins, morgue slabs, jars of questionable substances that he had no intention of questioning merged into a nightmarish blur. The light of the hallway beyond was in his line of sight when Giselle’s unnerving voice piped up again.

“You know, Lord Ishida…”

Uryuu stopped in his tracks and took a sharp intake of breath. 

“I would have thought you’d ask a few more questions than that.”

More questions? Slowly, Uryuu twisted until he could see his unwanted companion again. He raised his eyebrows and adjusted his glasses.

“And what would these other questions be about?”

Giselle inserted something Uryuu couldn’t see into the brain, then drew her fingers out and sucked on them thoughtfully. 

“After all of our meetings you should be more familiar with what I do. Did Lord Haschwalth not tell you?” She giggled and plucked each finger from her mouth one by one. “As one who works with the dead, I meet a lot of people. This means that I know a great many things about the workings of this kingdom. It just so happens to be the case that I received some information that may be beneficial to you.”

You’ve had this information all along? Uryuu’s eye twitched at the thought of being played. However, with his interest peaked (and with a sinking feeling that he’d have to spend even more time in the gloomy room), Uryuu made his way back towards her. He drew a small notebook from his breast pocket and with it a pencil. He cleared his throat and stood poised, ready to write.

“If you would, Miss Gewelle?”

An innocent look appeared on her face, although her pale blue eyes glistened as if they belonged to an animal starved of food.

“The information is not free! You will have to reimburse me, of course!” She traced her finger down the corpse’s cheek, as one might do to a lover, moving her thighs further up the torso. “Make me laugh, Lord Ishida. Amuse me.”

Uryuu spluttered, fumbled for something to say, an expression of panic suddenly on his normally serious face. Amuse her? Uryuu had never considered himself to be a person of much humour and certainly no jokes were coming to him now.

“That look is priceless.” Giselle widened her eyes. “Faces like that do things to me …”

The man cut her off by choking, going quite a dark shade of pink, both embarrassed and horrified at her sexual remark. 

“Isn’t there another way I can repay you?”

“Blood.”

Uryuu paled.

“Not a great amount. And you wouldn’t have to pay up front. I’ll take it the next time you come and visit. It will be _most useful_ in my current project…”

The man considered his options. _If I were to attempt humour, there would be no guarantee that I would receive the information. And_ , Uryuu cringed, _my dignity may suffer tremendously_. Whilst he despised the idea of his blood in her possession, it was the quickest and the most assured way of getting the valuable information from her.

“During my next visit,” Uryuu spoke slowly, carefully measuring each word, “I will supply you with a small amount of my blood for you to do with what you wish.”

A small smirk played on Giselle’s lips. Triumphantly, she hunched over and drew out a dagger from within her skirts. For a moment, Uryuu was taken aback, convinced she was already going to break their agreement but she drew the blade across her own palm. Tenderly, she smeared the red liquid that came out onto the exposed brain and jolted upright, as if she were expecting something to happen. Insides churning again, Uryuu fought the urge to retract his statement and leave.

“Do you like the circus, Lord Ishida?” She didn’t look at him.

The circus? Of what relevance is that? Uryuu could sense he was being messed with again- Giselle’s sense of amusement was beginning to border on the infuriating and he could feel time slipping away through his fingers. He stiffened.

“I can’t say it has ever appealed to me.”

“Oh dear. That’s a shame. One of my contacts said that there’s an awfully good one currently travelling the country at the moment.”

“What does this have to do with the investigation, Miss Gewelle?”

Giselle tittered and wiped her bloodied hands on her dress, leaving fingerprints Uryuu suspected would never come out.

“Always so impatient, always so desperate to get to the point. Savour the suspense…”

“Miss Gewelle.” Uryuu snapped, trying not to raise his voice. “I have agreed to your terms, now give me the information.”

For the first time since he had entered, she almost stopped smiling. The change was instantaneous; her eyes hardened and dark rings seemed to encompass them, the lids narrowed. He shifted uncomfortably, trying not break his impatient body language, as she placed the dagger beside her and folded her hands between her legs.

“My informant believes that the disappearances are connected to this circus troupe. She claims that wherever they go, a number of people vanish into thin air. Or course, it could just be a coincidence. People go missing every day.”

With that, she caressed one hand over the rough skin beneath her and Uryuu couldn’t help but have the feeling that the man she sat on had not died of natural causes.

“That is not the most intriguing part though.”

At last, she climbed off of the table and approached him. He could smell the scent of death clinging to her figure, wrapping its skeletal arms around her as if she were precious to it. Pushing herself right up to him, she whispered words Uryuu had never expected to hear.

“They say they are Reapers.”

Unable to take anymore, Uryuu pushed himself away from her and fled from the room, boots pounding on the floor, sending echoes through the godforsaken morgue. It felt like his heart was skipping beats.

His grandfather, potentially in the hands of creatures as evil as the Reapers.

_Was I right after all?_

“Keep your soul safe, Ur-y-uu!” He heard Giselle called after him as he sped down the bright corridor. “Or the Reapers may reap it sooner than you’d like!”


	2. Harlequinade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come one, come all…the Jyuuni Circus perform in the town of Karakura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know, due to the content, this is a description heavy chapter. Uryuu is sat by himself for most of it and so there were limited opportunities for dialogue. I tried not to go too crazy though. I promise that there will be a lot more dialogue in the ones after!
> 
> Also, I would like to note that this will most likely not be updated weekly. I'm actually quite a slow writer (and a perfectionist) so the chapters will be posted as they are done. The only reason that this one is out so quickly is that I'd already nearly completed it when I posted chapter 1!
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

The circus was scheduled to be performing in the small town of Karakura that evening. 

Due to the fact that it was not too far from his private residence, Uryuu had decided that there would be no harm in merely going to view the show. His instincts would tell him if something was awry and, if he deemed that there was not, he would simply return to focusing on the case at hand.

The word ‘Reapers’ had not left his mind since the meeting with Giselle, as if the wind were whispering it to him constantly. Both his grandfather and his father, when he had been alive, had taught him of the bloody battles they had fought with the Quincy. Of his ancestors’ noble and triumphant struggle against the blasphemers who dared to name themselves after gods of death.

Hearing their name being resurrected could only mean terrible things.

The autumn night air was crisp and so Uryuu chose to wear a thick cloak, which also provided him with a hood should the gathering clouds suddenly burst. He had the carriage drop him a fair distance away, so as not to draw attention to himself; the walk would not take him long and he was glad of the cold chill that would clear his head of any biased thoughts. Two heavy shoes grinded against grit and dirt as the young Quincy made his way down the road towards the glowing light on the horizon.

The circus tent was not hard to spot. Overwhelmingly tall, bright lights shone through the fabric, colouring the grass of the field it stood in deep shades of blue and violet. Bunting indicated a wide path on which to walk; black hand-shaped sign posts, with long, detailed fingers, pointed to the small shack that served as a ticket office. A sign dangled above the entrance to the tent, which simply read the name of the company. 

‘Jyuuni’. 

_It’s such an odd word_ , Uryuu thought. _I wonder what it means._

It was heaving outside the main entrance- clearly a sold out show. As to be expected, the crowds consisted mostly of children and their parents and, as a childless bachelor, Uryuu couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place. Two young girls jostled past him excitedly, desperate to reach the front row seats, dragging behind them a scowling, much less eager teenager. The sound of laughter tickled his ears. He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt joy like that. When he’d last felt that naïve anticipation…

“May I take your ticket, sir?” 

The squeaky voice interrupted his thoughts. Uryuu looked down to see a small boy, clutching a basket filled with ticket stubs. He wore a large ruff around his neck. Short brown hair reached to his chin with a fringe pulled back into a bundle on the top of his head. A stick poked through his lips, which he was sucking on vigorously. Without saying a word, Uryuu pulled out the small slip of paper and handed it to him. The boy smiled and tore it in half.

“Thank you very much!”

He bowed before returning one half to Uryuu and disappearing into the crowd. The man watched him go. Was that boy a Reaper? There hadn’t been anything particularly noteworthy about him- he had simply looked like an ordinary child. 

_Do Reapers look physically different from regular people? Will there be a tell-tale sign?_

Lost in his mental deliberations, Uryuu unexpectedly found himself at the way in, the dim interior of the tent only a few steps away. He was hit with a wave of vertigo as the point of the roof came into view, seemingly thousands of miles away, towering imposingly above the crowds. The seating was arranged in a circular formation, a large empty ring left open in the middle and a small pathway leading off to what Uryuu assumed was backstage. Two tall pillars stood opposite each other, connected only by a rather worn out looking rope.

He chose to sit at the back on the end of a row. The faint lights were starting to make his head pound and his eyes strain. The musty smell of old fabric stuck in his nose and left a bitter taste in his mouth. Claustrophobia was beginning to set in. The tent seemed to get smaller and smaller the longer he sat in it, suffocating him, burying him alive. 

Is this paranoia? Uryuu couldn’t help but feel hesitant. If the Reapers were returning, it could only mean that another war was potentially imminent. Silently, he prayed that Giselle’s informant had been misinformed. Nothing about what he had seen so far had given him any reason to conclude that the Quincy’s enemies had returned. But it was the dull ache in the pit of his stomach that told him otherwise.

Suddenly the lights went out.

The children to the left of him cheered and clapped their hands, each slap giving Uryuu more of a headache.

“My my, aren’t we enthusiastic?” The words echoed through the darkness; a high pitched male voice that sent a feeling of unease spreading across Uryuu’s body.

A figure appeared to drop down from the ceiling into the centre of the ring. As their feet silently hit the floor, a single light flooded the circle, revealing to the audience the man who had spoken. Uryuu’s mouth fell open.

_He’s a freak._

The performer’s appearance was grotesque, a twisted version of Harlequin. When he smiled, it was a lipless grin, revealing perfectly lined teeth and gums that seemed to span the entire bottom half of his face. His skin was completely covered in a thick layer of paint; jet black clashed against pure white in sharp lines. Vivid blue hair was spiked on the top of his head, the colour of deep tropical water with no ocean floor. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” He grinned- a maniacal expression- before flinging his arms open wide. Uryuu noticed that on his right hand, one fingernail was at least three times the length of the others. “My name is Kurotsuchi and I will be your host for this evening.” 

He tilted his head quizzically and Uryuu saw that his eyes were a striking gold colour.

“Shall we begin?”

The crowd screamed with delight as Kurotsuchi disappeared in a cloud of mauve mist. A heavy drum beat began and Uryuu felt the hairs raising on his arm. The tension in the room rose gradually, until an unseen orchestra broke out into a symphony of pipes, flutes and fiddles. 

However, despite the musical crescendo, nothing happened. 

Confused, Uryuu glanced around the audience, to see if the cast was hiding among them, waiting to pop out and make them jump. 

But no one moved. They simply held their breath in anticipation, staring at the ring as if it would make someone appear.

“Honestly, why do I waste my time with such idiots?”

Kurotsuchi’s voice sneered around the tent and all of the audience’s necks craned simultaneously to where he stood on one of the raised platforms. The painted man sighed, folding his arms in frustration. He stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes with both a hint of playfulness and sarcasm. The golden pupils moved in impossible directions, like a chameleon.

“If you were really interested in what comes first, you would bother to keep up.”

The audience giggled. Uryuu didn’t find it funny in the slightest. He’d never seen a clown with such horrendous manners.

“Hiyosu.” Kurotsuchi clicked his pale fingers commandingly and, with another puff of smoke, vanished again.

On cue, the ring burst into flames, fireworks exploding and fading away. The tent was now filled with a fierce orange glow, the temperature rising to an almost uncomfortable level. The music began again, accompanied by an alarming low crackle. Uryuu’s heart began to thump wildly, pounding along with the drums as if he were part of the orchestra.

The tall flames were followed by a small, plump man, who looked alarmingly like a toad. He almost didn’t appear human, the skin of his bald head and exposed arms tinted with a sickly green hue. His eyes were the biggest Uryuu had ever seen, bulging out of their sockets as he goggled at the children watching him intently. Grinning, he gave a throaty chuckle before spinning the fiery baton he held in his right hand above his head and beginning his routine. 

For a man of his physique, Uryuu was amazed at how well Hiyosu moved and how smoothly he span the sticks. However, the Quincy couldn’t help but wince, half expecting the man to alight and burn to death. He had seen similar acts performed many times before. The court fire breather Bazz-B and his ‘Five Finger’ act was famous across the country. But there was a certain carelessness, a fearlessness, in the way Hiyosu played with the flames.

The crowd gasped as Hiyosu craned his head backwards and breathed fire, as if a dragon harboured in his lungs.

The routine didn’t last more than a few minutes. It built and built, each trick, each manoeuvre becoming more daring and more dangerous. Beads of sweat dripped from the man’s brow as he danced, leaving trails of light and smoke in his wake. Eventually, after spinning the baton one last time, Hiyosu extinguished the fire. The crowds clapped ardently, some jumping up and down in their seats. Uryuu joined in politely.

Hiyosu did not bow, but instead gave a small wave before waddling off stage. _Nothing to be suspicious of there_ , Uryuu noted. 

Kurotsuchi returned through the flap leading to backstage, entering with a slight flourish. Uryuu was finding that, with each appearance, he despised the man more and more. The black and white face paint was reminding him of the masked monsters from his childhood nightmares. 

Only seeing it in real life felt far more distressing. 

The decorated man waited until the applause died before pulling out three yellow balls. Each was adorned with the face of a baby; two bulbous white eyes with no pupils and purple detailing stared outwards, deciduous teeth parted slightly as if about to bite. Kurotsuchi began to juggle them nonchalantly before speaking, occasionally flicking his wrists to add in a few tricks.

“Well now…it appears you simpletons will be entertained by just about anything!” From nowhere, the juggling balls suddenly seemed to multiply. “And, as a result of this observation, I now propose that we try a little experiment! Shall we see if you can keep this level of dynamism up? Akon!” He screeched, before cackling loudly.

A pale man followed the introduction, a number of blades entwined in his fingers. There were three small horns poking out from his forehead, brown hair stuck out at odd angles. A ruffled shirt with sharp monochrome stripes made his face look even more drawn than it already was and an oddly shaped crimson hat sat atop his head at a slight tilt.

“I need a volunteer from the audience.” His small black eyes scanned the room expectantly.

The crowds erupted into loud whispers but the young Quincy shrunk back in his seat. Whilst Uryuu wished to push his observation further, the idea of having sharp weapons thrown at him was not one that appealed. 

Evidently though, it did to others. An arm belonging to a woman with vibrant ginger tresses shot up at lightning speed, earning her a concerned look of protest from the dark haired girl in the next seat. Akon gave her a slight nod and she stood up, bounding down towards the stage with exceptional vigour. As she entered the ring, he took her hand and led her towards a rectangular set piece that had been inconspicuously pushed on during the chatter. There, he proceeded to strap her to it, positioning her perfectly in the centre.

The fiddles seemed to speed up again as Akon began his dangerous act, flinging what looked like scientific scalpels towards the woman, who hadn’t stopped smiling. She giggled as each one hit the board, merely inches from her flesh. Out of the corner of his eye, Uryuu could see her companion on her feet, glaring at the performer with clenched fists, almost daring him to hit her.

Again, Uryuu could spot nothing out of sorts with the man or with the show. He was a skilled artist, as were they all, seemingly nothing more and nothing less. However, the unpleasant lump in his gut had still not disappeared.

_What am I even looking for? There’s no evidence here to suggest the involvement of Reapers, or even that these people have come into contact with any Quincy. But then why am I feeling so tense? Something about Kurotsuchi seems off…but it could simply be an act for the crowd…_

“And now, ladies and gentlemen…”

_Speak of the devil._

Uryuu tried to focus back on the show, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Akon had already left, the ecstatic young woman returning to her seat as the audience loudly praised them both. From the side of the room, Kurotsuchi seemed to emerge from the wall, peeling gradually away, one limb at a time, like a fleck of ancient paint. At the sight of the trick, there were a few mellow noises of awe from the spectators. The harlequin smirked at the reaction before sauntering down the steps between the rows.

“The Jyuuni Circus’ _so called princess_ …”

He paused for dramatic effect before gesturing upwards with his hand.

“…Nemu.”

The spotlight moved to the roof. A dainty foot moved slowly into the light, curved around the thick rope that was suspended above their heads. It did not quiver even slightly as it slid forward, only a mere slip away from a fatal fall. The music changed to be soft, light notes that created the illusion of raindrops splashing on the ground. The melody sounded with each step she took, as if she were a sprite that walked along piano keys.

Uryuu’s gaze widened and glassed over, thin lips parting little by little, lungs suddenly starved of air.

She was a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties. One emerald green eye was covered by a large floral headdress; a bouquet of thorn-less white roses. The other eye was wide, unblinking and emotionless, focused on the platform ahead. Her long legs were bare and smooth, free from imperfections, the rest of her covered by layers of soft fabric that resembled a ballerina’s tutu. 

_Nemu…_

Delicately, she made her way across the wire, one arm outstretched and a parasol held aloft in the other. With every step, she danced, switching her weight from one foot to the other. Occasionally, she took a few paces backwards, never once losing her balance or her perfectly upright posture. The rope creaked only slightly under her weight.

_Nemu…_

Spreading her legs, she leapt. Her head flew back, neck craning towards the concealed sky, eyelids shut as if she were dreaming. For a moment, she seemed suspended above them, hung in the atmosphere like a distant star.

_Nemu…_

Without making a sound, the woman landed back on the rope, spinning her arms in a windmill motion. 

Uryuu’s heart skipped a beat. 

_She’s going to fall._

Eyes darting frantically, he could see no safety net below- if she were to tumble, there would be nothing to stop her from crashing to the ground. He made to rise out of his seat, to rush forward and catch her but, with a swift movement, she transitioned into a handstand and flipped, like a gymnast on a beam. 

As she hung upside down, he took in a sharp intake of breath. From where her dress had shifted, a dark bruise was visible on the top of her thigh, snaking its way across her flesh as if it had been stroked by a cursed finger. It looked fresh, maybe only hours old, a spilt drop of ink still wet on the page. However, within seconds, the ruffles of her skirt obscured his view and she continued with the sequence, no sign of discomfort on her face.

Finally, she made it to the other side. There was no sense of accomplishment on her face as she stepped onto the flat surface. Her blank stare showed no comprehension of the amazing feat she had just performed. She simply gave a small bow, hands folded neatly in front of her, lips pressed together in a straight line as if smiling was an impossible task.

Uryuu felt as though he had awoken from a deep sleep as the woman disappeared and Kurotsuchi materialised once more. He could barely hear the man’s next introduction, which announced a small girl in glasses and the boy who had taken his ticket. They each gave large curtsies before ascending upwards and beginning a rather dangerous looking trapeze routine. 

However, Uryuu was too distracted to watch them. The sight of the woman’s injuries and her constant expression of nihilism had made him uncomfortable, stripping away any sense of enjoyment and wonder he had gained from the show. 

_Is there something more going on here?_

_No_ , Uryuu mentally slapped himself on the wrist. _She could have injured herself during rehearsals- accidents happen all the time. There’s no reason to think that something suspicious is happening because of it…_

_…is there?_

Everything else in the repertoire of acts seemed to pass in a blur. A man with strange green and yellow hair whispered to serpents that wrapped around his arms and neck, as if they planned on crushing him. A woman with abnormally large breasts in a risqué costume tamed a wild tiger with extraordinary ease. Finally, the lights came back up again, to signify the end of the show. Kurotsuchi was back and gave a deep bow to the audience. Uryuu ground his teeth together.

It was only at that moment that he noticed an irregularity with the harlequin’s body. The left arm hung slightly differently than the other, as if it were weighted, a burden on his shoulder. _A false arm?_ As he raised both up to invite the rest of the cast back onto the stage, the cuff of his white sleeve fell backwards, revealing a small mark on the wrist. Leaning forward in his seat, Uryuu squinted, to see a tiny black tattoo of a thistle.

The thistle, he mentally recited. The flower of independence, the flower of strictness. The flower of vengeance.

_I know I’ve seen that before._

The entire cast was now taking their bows, hands joined in unity. Uryuu stared as Nemu stood quietly next to Kurotsuchi, stiff and silent and seemingly out of place amongst the bizarre looking line up. The heel of her bruised leg was raised slightly off of the ground, putting all her body weight on her toes. The two performers did not hold hands- in fact, he seemed to ignore her presence altogether. She however was glancing at him, as if she were searching for his approval, completely ignoring the support she was receiving from the crowd. 

As the applause died down, Kurotsuchi stepped forward from the group and tapped his chin.

“I do hope you have enjoyed yourselves, ladies and gentlemen.” To Uryuu, the sarcasm couldn’t have been more obvious. “Goodnight and farewell.”


	3. Snake Charmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having made up his mind, Uryuu seeks out the performers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies but this is a relatively short chapter (compared to the others). This conversation was a necessary one though and now hopefully the story should really pick up.
> 
> Any further updates of this will be slightly delayed, as I am currently working on a commission. However, I will aim to get it done as soon as possible!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

With his mind made up, Uryuu waited until the crowds had completely dispersed before trying to locate the performers.

The decision to investigate further had not been a difficult one. Even without the information from Giselle’s contact, it was obvious to him that an unexplainable gloom hung over the circus, skilfully concealed behind elaborate masks of false carefreeness. All that mattered now was whether that hidden darkness would lead him to more troubling and sinister findings.

_And to Grandfather._

The living quarters were a gathering of tents around the back of the main arena, lined up neatly in four rows with wide pathways to divide them. They were far less extravagant than the marquee, each one a moderate size and made of a thick navy material that merged with the night. The paths were lit by only a few dull lamps, small flames dancing behind sculpted walls of iron, casting flickering shadows across the dirt. A distinct smell of tobacco hung in the air.

Most of the stage hands present did not pay him any attention as he made his way through the scene. Save for a few brief glances, they were busy tidying and sorting out the large pile of props and set pieces that were stacked unceremoniously in a large pile. Uryuu found himself ducking a few times to avoid hitting his head on strips of wood being shifted from one spot to another, carefully manoeuvring through the throng of sweaty browed men and women in search for someone he knew. 

Scanning the crowded space, there was only one person he recognised. The knife thrower. He sat smoking outside one of the tents, vigorously sharpening one of the scalpels he had used in the act, a skinny leg rested on a wooden crate. Now out of his costume, he wore clothing far too dull to be associated with a profession so colourful, although the horns were still atop his head. The leg that was propped up had the fabric of the trouser pulled back, revealing an obvious prosthetic that bore the same thistle marking as Kurotsuchi. Uryuu frowned slightly, even now unable to recall why the image bothered him.

Slowly, he approached the man, scratching his nose and clearing his throat.

“Excuse me?” He began politely.

The man raised his head. Two sharp eyes inquisitively scanned the Quincy up and down, visibly dissecting him, searching for an explanation as to why he had been disturbed and who had interrupted him. After an awkward pause, he turned away and resumed sliding the small blade along the strip of leather.

“Sorry sir, we’ve just finished for the night. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“I just watched the show.”

The man- Akon, if he remembered correctly- stopped again but did not say anything. Uryuu continued quickly, trying to rid all doubt that he was doing the wrong thing from his mind. 

“I wish to join your company.”

Akon’s eyebrows shot up, or what would have been eyebrows if they had not been so obviously shaved off. The subtle expression of shock seemed quite genuine- clearly enlistment had not made it onto the list of possible reasons for Uryuu’s presence. Perhaps they don’t get many new members. 

“You’ll have to talk to Kurotsuchi. He’s in charge.”

Uryuu felt his shoulders slump. 

_Of course he is._

“I’ll go and get him for you.”

With a lot of care, the man laid down what he was doing on the dusty ground and stood up from the box he sat on, wiping his rough hands on his trousers. He turned to leave but Uryuu promptly stopped him with an outstretched arm.

“Oh no, there’s no need. I’m sure I can find him by myself.”

Akon pushed past it as if he were invisible.

“Sorry, but no one’s allowed in the first-string members’ tents…”

However, as if he had overheard their conversation, Kurotsuchi appeared suddenly, wiping himself down with a thin towel. His sapphire hair was damp- no longer spiked, it fell down to where clearly modified skin replaced two missing ears. The layers of paint were gone, revealing tanned skin, decorated with scars that started from the nape of his neck and disappeared into the loose shirt he had changed into.

At first glance, he did not look quite as frightening as he did in costume. But as he turned to incredulously stare at Uryuu with those judgemental eyes, the bespectacled man felt his insides squirm. Was it fear? Or hatred? Crossing his fingers, he secretly hoped that the freak that he had seen in the show was merely a persona; that the distorted harlequin was nothing more than a painting that had now been washed away.

“Akon, if I don’t hear a reasonable explanation as to who this is and what he is doing here within five seconds, I will personally eviscerate you both.”

The warning was spat sharply from his lips, with no attempt to disguise the murderous threat at the end. Uryuu tightened his jaw- it appeared that he really was vulgar after all. Akon however did not seem bothered by it at all, as if promises of bloodshed were not that uncommon.

“Sir,” He spoke with a formality the Quincy had not expected, “this gentleman here has requested to join our troupe.”

Kurotsuchi did not reply but narrowed his eyes suspiciously and continued to stare him down. Again, Uryuu got the distinct impression that he was being scrutinised, each layer of clothing, skin and bone pulled away and inspected in search of flaws and imperfections. He shifted uncomfortably but did not break eye contact. _I can’t afford to show weakness. I can’t give him a reason to refuse._

Eventually though, despite Uryuu’s façade, the scarred man threw the towel over his shoulder and shook his head.

“No.”

“No?” Uryuu spluttered. “You can’t just turn me away!”

“I can and I am.”

“I haven’t done anything yet!”

Kurotsuchi rolled his eyes with great exaggeration, just as he had done in the show, and gave a derogatory snort, paired with an overly nasty smirk. Uryuu stood firm, trying not to show his revulsion.

“I do not need to watch you to know that anything you do will be uninteresting and a waste of my time.”

“You cannot possibly know that!”

Immediately, Kurotsuchi’s expression hardened. Snarling, he took a few steps forward, pointing an accusatory finger. For a split second, Uryuu felt threatened. His pulse raised as the man’s physicality became angered and violent, the sting of an anticipated strike flaring on the Quincy’s cheek. If Uryuu had had any doubts that Kurotsuchi’s threat of disembowelment was an empty one, he certainly didn’t now. But the sudden fear wasn’t enough to make him hesitate to fight back, his fingers twitching to reach for the weapon concealed in his cloak.

_I refuse to be intimidated by this low life._

“How dare you question my judgement!”

“Sir, may I speak with you a moment?”

The rising tension broke abruptly. Kurotsuchi glared darkly at the horned man who had so quickly cut in. However, he did not respond to the question. Akon clearly knew this to be a sign to continue talking.

“I don’t see any harm in auditioning him.”

“What?” The very look on Kurotsuchi’s face made it quite clear that Akon disagreeing with him was not a common occurrence. The knife thrower glanced almost apologetically at Uryuu.

“If you would give us a moment?”

Reluctantly, but glad to be relieved momentarily of Kurotsuchi’s company, Uryuu nodded. The two men disappeared behind the nearest tent to continue their discussion in private. However, they made no attempt to lower their voices. From where he stood, he could tell that Kurotsuchi was not pleased with what Akon had to say. His disembodied voice was grating, scornful, his words dripping with venom. He swore he heard the ringmaster throw some insults in his general direction, most concerning his intelligence, or lack of.

“I will not allow that insolent boy to-”

“With all due respect sir, you cannot turn away every person who asks to join…”

At this moment, the conversation fell into hushed and hissed whispers and Uryuu could hear no more. _Every person? Just how many people have they refused? And more importantly, if Akon can’t convince Kurotsuchi to change his mind…I’ll have to rethink my strategy…_

_But time is limited. More Quincies are disappearing each day and I cannot afford to let this lead slip through my fingers. I have to get in. There are no other viable options._

After a few painful moments of waiting, they emerged again. Akon gave him a slight nod. A positive result. Uryuu felt himself relax, although taken aback at how stressed he had become with the whole scenario. Completely ignoring the two of them, Kurotsuchi began to walk off towards the main arena, resuming the drying of his hair. 

_Where is he going? Are we not doing this now?_

“Mr Ku-” Uryuu began indignantly.

“Come back in the morning.” He waved an indifferent hand in Uryuu’s direction as he vanished into the pavilion.

 _What a repulsive man_ , Uryuu scowled.

Akon escorted him back towards the main entrance, taking the less direct route around the big top. Uryuu strode briskly, not wanting to remain there for a moment longer than he needed to. He turned to look at his companion as they moved. The pale man kept his hands tucked into his overly large coat sleeves and Uryuu had no doubt that he was hiding a knife in there.

“If you’re serious about joining, make sure you do something good tomorrow.” Akon’s advice distracted him from his thoughts.

“Something good?”

“You’re going to need to impress him and, believe me, that’s not an easy thing to do. I’ve known Kurotsuchi for years and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him be fully satisfied with an act. There’s always something we’re doing wrong or something that has to change.”

“So why don’t you just do it without him?”

Akon gave a small knowing smile.

“Because the man’s a genius. The very best at what he does. No one else could run this group like him.”

Uryuu noticed a small glint in his eye as he said this. Had it been a lie? He got the impression Akon did not truly mean what he said.

At last, they reached the path that led back towards the main road and the carriage. It was now pitch black, so much so that Uryuu could barely see the beginning of the deserted dirt track, let alone the end. He wrapped his cloak even further around him and pulled his collar up, as the night’s wind began to whip around them. Akon didn’t seem too affected by it.

“Tomorrow, when you arrive, ask for Akon. That’s me.” He reminded him, dropping his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his foot. “Ask for Kurotsuchi and you’ll be waiting a pretty long time.”

“Ask for Akon.” Uryuu repeated. “I am…”

He paused, catching the words on the end of his tongue. The name ‘Ishida’ was well known across the kingdom to be that of a high ranking family. If I use my full name, he’ll know I’m a Quincy. Heart racing, he thought solemnly of Haschwalth’s words.

_“I will not allow failure when it comes to fulfilling His Majesty’s desires.”_

“Uryuu. My name is Uryuu.”

Akon nodded and the Quincy almost sighed a breath of relief that he had not asked for a second name.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow morning then, Mr Uryuu.” 

And with that, he was alone.

As Uryuu walked away, he turned round to shoot one last glance at the tent, now nothing more than a dark shape in a moonless scene. His mind carefully and meticulously weighed the evidence of the evening’s investigation, picking through that which he deemed relevant and that which was not, flicking through recent memories that now seemed like a distant dream. 

The thistle. Nemu’s bruise. And…the people themselves. Whilst Akon had seemed friendly enough, if not slightly austere, the odd and menacing behaviour of Kurotsuchi had only heightened his suspicions. Surely a troupe such as this would been keen for new members? What reasons did he have to simply turn away those who came looking for opportunity?

_What is he hiding?_

Clad in black and with a heavy head, Uryuu disappeared completely into the night’s darkness.

A large emerald eye, peering from behind the closed ticket booth, trailed him with a curious gaze.

*

_“Lord Ishida, Inspector Opie has informed me that he received two reports of missing Quincy from the town of Karakura this morning. You will begin your infiltration of the suspects’ territory tomorrow without any further delay.”_  



	4. The Art of Impalement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no room for mistakes, Uryuu auditions for Kurotsuchi and Akon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter. Chapter 5 will be much better, I promise. I must also apologise for how long this has taken. It's been months and I don't really have an excuse, except for the fact that I started university and since then, I've been having an absolutely miserable time. So again, I'm very sorry. This is the second longest chapter yet though so I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> A fair amount of chapter 5 has been written as well though, so the gaps between this chapter and the next should be a lot shorter.
> 
> Next time, IshiNemu really starts to kick off!!

With Haschwalth’s grave report lingering in the forefront of his mind, Uryuu arrived at the circus just after dawn.

He was not surprised to see that the stage hands were already up and preparing for that evening’s show, busying themselves with sweeping fallen leaves from the path and stitching up holes in vibrant clothes. There were a lot more people than he remembered, having now emerged from their tents, spread across the site like some sort of infestation. An eclectic mix of oddities, all as strange in appearance as the stars of the show. As he had been the night before, Uryuu found himself ignored as he made his way into the main marquee in search of the horned man who had promised him an audition.

It looked a lot less enthralling in the daylight. He could see the tears in the fabric of the walls, covered by big pieces of patchwork to keep out the cold winds. The circle was no longer a stage but a floor of dust and dirt, with trails of boot prints stamped across it. The seats were nothing more than empty chairs for ghosts long departed, the only evidence of their existence being the ticket ends that carpeted the floor. 

It was a sad sight indeed.

In the centre ring stood the boy and the girl from the trapeze act, who were quite clearly discussing their latest performance, gesturing wildly as if trying to recreate the motion of flight. Hiyosu sat watching them from a seat in the front row, stuffing a piece of crusty bread into his mouth. There was no sign of Akon or Kurotsuchi to be found anywhere.

_I wonder where she is._

Cautiously, he approached the duo, who broke off their conversation and turned to face him.

“I’m looking for Akon?”

“Oh!” The boy beamed as he registered who the man was- a genuine look of happiness, with a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. “Are you Mr Uryuu?” 

The Quincy nodded. 

“I’m Rin Tsubokura!” He stuck out a hand which, when Uryuu took it and shook firmly, he found to be remarkably sticky. A number of wrapped boiled sweets and lollipops were bulging out of the boy’s shirt pocket.

“My name’s Kuna!” The girl piped up, giving a small, awkward wave. She was shorter than Rin, with thick rimmed glasses that framed her pretty eyes. A chain was wrapped tightly around her head as if she wore a crown, with soft violet hair that fell down to her shoulders in a neat bob. Like her male companion, she seemed to be no more than thirteen or fourteen years old, although both seemed reasonably mature for their age.

“You were all anyone was talking about last night!” Rin smiled. “We haven’t had a new member for such a long time!”

“He’s not in yet, Rin.” Hiyosu had joined them, his words slightly slurring together as he waddled. _He even sounds like a toad_ , Uryuu shuddered. “Not until Mr Kurotsuchi says so.”

Uryuu still had not worked out how he was going to win the harlequin’s favour. The brief conversation of the previous evening had not gone smoothly and he very much doubted that Kurotsuchi had forgotten it, let alone forgiven him. As far as he was concerned, the man had made up his mind the moment he’d been challenged, perhaps even the moment they’d first seen one another. It was going to take a miracle.

_That’s if he even bothers to show up at all._

“Ah, you’re here.” Akon appeared abruptly from outside, a gently smoking cigarette stuck between his yellowed teeth and dark circles under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn’t slept all night. “Give me a minute to set up.” With long strides, he crossed over to the other side of the room and disappeared again behind a heavy curtain, evidently in search of something.

“So, you saw the show last night? What was your favourite part?” Rin continued as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “Normally when I ask, most people say-”

However, he stopped suddenly in mid-sentence, as a chill filled the tent. Uryuu turned to look as the flap was drawn back by a pale hand and Kurotsuchi slipped in. 

_So you did bother to come._

He was back in the full body make-up- and it really was full, covering every inch of visible skin- although he was not in costume and his hair was left loose and limp. His lip curled as he spotted Uryuu. To the Quincy’s surprise, the performers honoured him with a low bow as he sat in the front row and folded his arms, tapping the finger with the elongated nail impatiently.

“Does he really wear that make-up all the time?” Uryuu whispered to the trio through gritted teeth.

“Pretty much.” Kuna mumbled back whilst straightening up.

“Why?”

His companions shrugged and dispersed, as Kurotsuchi’s eyes bore into them, the glint in his pupils expressing his irritation at their idleness. However when the trio did begin to warm up, it was blatantly obvious that their efforts were half-hearted, as they were observing the unfolding scene with their peripheral vision.

Akon approached them once more, carrying a large bag that rattled ominously as he walked. For the first time since he had woken up that morning, Uryuu began to feel nervous, clenching his fist tightly in silent determination. 

“Ok, so first I’m going to have you try out a number of different acts and then, if you’d like, you’ll get a chance to show us some of your own skills.”

Akon pulled open the bag and drew out a baton decorated in ornate red and gold, similar to the ones Hiyosu had used in the show. Uryuu heard the toad man chuckle unpleasantly from the other side of the tent as he stared concernedly down at it.

“You ever breathed fire before?” Akon pushed the stick into his hands. Uryuu held it cautiously between three fingers, like he expected it to burst into flames without warning.

“Absolutely not.” He adjusted his glasses with the other hand.

“Well, it’s never too late to start.”

The horned man then pulled out a small bottle made of a murky brown glass, filled with what Uryuu could only assume to be some kind of fuel. He began to wriggle the cork out, eventually releasing it with a slight pop. A heavy, pungent smell rose into the air. It flooded Uryuu’s nostrils, making his head spin and the room dance ever so slightly. Akon held it out to him.

“Put this in your mouth. Then I’ll set light to your baton and you can begin.”

Uryuu stared at him in horror, almost dropping the stick as a wave of nausea fell upon him. He could feel his mouth blistering already, bulbous sores breaking out on his tongue and cheeks. If the wind was wrong, the flames would scold his flesh; dry it out, peel it off, melt his skin…the fuel could scorch his throat, as it poisoned his lungs, filling them with thick, black smoke…

It took a moment before he realised Rin and Kuna were giggling behind him.

“I’m joking.” Akon said with a deadpan face, before snatching the baton back and replacing the bottle’s cork, setting them carefully on the ground. “Only Hiyosu was ever mad enough to try it. This is the one thing I won’t have you do today.”

Relief washed over him. 

It didn’t last long.

Akon smirked as he held up a thick cord with a harness attached.

“We’ll try the tightrope instead.”

*

“Hurry up! I haven’t got all day!”

“Shut up…” Uryuu hissed under his breath so there was no chance the harlequin could hear him. The rope that Kuna was tying around his waist was getting tighter and tighter by the second, like she was fastening a corset. He was thankful for it though. He was not afraid of heights but the view he received as he peered over the edge of the platform was not one he cared to look at for too long. The thought of falling into it only made his hands quiver more violently. 

_At least they’re not trying to kill me._

_Is that a good sign?_

“Alright, I’m done.” Kuna said, taking a step backwards and signalling to the group below with a thumbs up.

“When you’re ready!” Akon called.

Uryuu took a slow, deep breath before sliding one foot out. The rope bounced uncontrollably beneath his weight. His body shuddered like he had broken out in a fever, the lack of supports to hold on to disconcerting. However, summoning his courage, it only took a moment before both feet curled around the rope and he was out in the open, a single step closer toward the end.

He tried to recall how Nemu had stood the night before, outstretching his arms as she had done, despite his lack of parasol. He also attempted not to think of how ridiculous he felt and looked to his observers, a few of whom he could hear laughing again. However, he found that it did greatly help his balance. Silently, he thanked the notably absent woman and made a note to thank her again if he somehow made it through.

Three steps in. 

A bead of sweat fell from his hair onto his nose. Every inch of him seemed to itch. A scratchy cough was building up in the back of his throat. The shoes they had given him were far too small, painfully crushing his toes and rubbing against the backs of his heels. 

Another step forward.

His confidence was growing now, building with each passing moment. Surprisingly, he was beginning to feel quite comfortable, settling into a rhythm that allowed him to stay upright. A glimmer of hope flickered in the back of his mind.

_I can do this._

He managed to take five steps before his foot slipped.

_Dammit!_

Thankfully, the fall was short. The jolt winded him as the harness and ropes strained to keep him from smacking his head on the ground and cracking open his skull. He could feel the straps rub against his skin, leaving red burns that stung as the fabric of his shirt brushed against them. Resigned to his defeat, he wrestled to free himself and jump down to the floor.

This was not necessary. Gently, he felt himself being lowered the last few metres to the ground. Kuna was calling out her concerns from the platform above but he couldn’t quite hear, the rush of the air still lingering in his ears. As he found his feet once more and doubled over, trying to gain his breath back, a pair of dusty brown shoes moved into his vision.

“I don’t suppose you’d be up for the trapeze either, then?”

“No, I want to try.” Uryuu gasped. “It’s not the height, I just lost my balance.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Akon replied, holding out his hand for him to grab and pull himself up. He twisted his head to look over his shoulder. “Rin! Your turn!”

“Yes sir!” Rin squeaked, reluctantly pulling the lollipop from his mouth and casing it back up in its wrapper. Handing it to Hiyosu for safekeeping- which received a subtle look of disgust in return- he tottered over to Uryuu and rubbed the back of his head with a nervous giggle. “Shall we?”

Uryuu didn’t even want to look at Kurotsuchi as he was led back towards the ladder and began the ascent once more.

*

“Well…”

Akon stood rubbing his brow, almost speechless, clearly wondering why he had pushed for the audition to happen in the first place. Even Rin, Kuna and Hiyosu looked unsure. Kurotsuchi on the other hand...Uryuu couldn’t figure out if he was fuming from having his time wasted or rather enjoying watching him make a fool of himself. 

After his fall from the tightrope, he’d attempted the trapeze. It had been a slightly more successful experience but not by a large margin. He had strong legs so staying on the trapeze itself had not been an issue. But when his hands had met Rin’s and the sugary coating of his palm had wiped against his skin…well, his immediate response had been to let go. Which, of course, had ended in winded lungs, more burns and an extremely bruised ego.

They’d even convinced the snake charmer- whose name he’d discovered was Kageroza Inaba- to bring in an emerald green python by the name of Nozomi for him to work with. That had been by far the worst activity of the day; if contact with Rin hadn’t been bad enough, the serpent’s scales had made him feel oily and dirty, slime laced around his throat like a noose. Even the thought of it made him shudder.

Inaba had told him to simply talk to the snake, to whisper hushed commands and let her do the rest. But the fact that Nozomi appeared to have no ears had thrown him and, in the end, he’d just awkwardly cried out a rather impolite request, almost losing his temper at how ludicrous the whole activity seemed.

He had smiled to himself though. _No ears. Just like Kurotsuchi. Fitting, really._

Akon’s slowly spoken question brought him out of his memories.

“So…what exactly can you do?”

Mentally, Uryuu ran through a list of skills, scouring for one that he could apply to such a situation. “Well, I’m a decent shot…”

Kurotsuchi interrupted by scoffing from the corner, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Akon looked a little happier though, nodding his head and rubbing his palms together.

“Good aim…that’s a start. Here, try this.” With that, he pulled out a scalpel from his own jacket. “Think you can hit that target?” He indicated to a large wooden board that was propped up against the furthest wall, with three white circles that resembled an oversized eyeball painted on it.

As he took the blade, Uryuu felt the weight of it in his hands. It was certainly different to that of his precious bow and arrow; somehow heavier, despite its size, as if weighed down by some burden. 

Seele Schneider.

His grandfather had taught him the ancient technique. Whilst it could still be used as an arrow, Seele Schneider was an edged weapon, the closest thing to a sword in a Quincy arsenal. He’d even been allowed to test and train with one as a child- blunt of course. To run his finger gently along the edge, to feel just a fraction of the true power that the Quincy wielded in battle. To learn about the famous Sprenger pentagon formation, in case the time came for him to fight for king and country.

Yes, Uryuu Ishida was not a novice to edged weapons.

_You can do this._

_After all, it can’t be much more different?_

Standing on an angle to the target, Uryuu raised his arm. There was quite a wide gap between them, but his arms were strong and he had covered more distance than this in his training. The Sprenger technique easily surpassed this in the level of skill required. He took aim, envisioning it landing square in the centre, as if his very willpower would get him through this.

Releasing the tension in his body, he threw it.

The first missed the mark entirely.

“You’re actually supposed to hit it.” Kurotsuchi criticised in his reedy voice. 

Uryuu tried not to shoot him a dark glare before taking up his stance again. Akon passed him a second scalpel. Steadying his hand, he breathed in deeply through his nostrils, before exhaling it through slightly parted lips. There was a brief moment of still before he felt himself move- almost automatically- and the blade flew through the air. He barely had time to lower his arm before he heard the dull thud of something hitting wood.

He had hit a bullseye.

“Wow!” Rin cried with a wide smile. “I’ve only ever seen Mr Akon do that!”

“Not bad.” Akon agreed, walking over to the target and pulling the blade out from the board. “Could just be a fluke though. If you hit it a second time, then we’ll talk business.”

He did it a second time. And a third. By this point, the performers around him were electric with energy and excitement, so much so that for a moment, Uryuu almost forgot himself and found he was enjoying it. Proudly, he pushed his spectacles up his nose, the glass glinting in the light as he smirked triumphantly at them.

_That showed them. Thank you, Grandfather._

“So, am I in?”

The entire group turned to look at their leader with varying degrees of hope. The expression they received in return made Uryuu want to laugh out loud. Kurotsuchi had an obvious pout on his face, bulging eyes twitching. It was clear he was looking for some excuse, for some reason that meant he could turn Uryuu away but the strain in his facial muscles revealed his struggle.

“Sir, you know I’ve been thinking about getting someone to help me out.” Akon said.

Kurotsuchi glowered at him, clenching his fists. He spluttered a few times, as if trying to force some comprehensible sentence out, but he seemed to lose the war he waged against his own tongue. Eventually and reluctantly, the harlequin stood up, teeth gritted together and lips pulled into a snarl.

“Fine. Whatever. It’s of no interest to me anymore.”

However, before Uryuu could blink, he found Kurotsuchi was in front of him, leering down. Again, he got the distinct impression that he was about to be hit in the face.

“If you cause any problems, if I catch you putting a single toe out of line, you will come to regret it. Do you understand?”

_Not if I catch you first._

However, Uryuu simply nodded silently, not wanting to push his luck.

With that small gesture, the clown huffed, turned and stormed out, screaming out murderous curses and insults at a person hidden behind the tent opening. The performers waited until he was completely gone, screeches no longer audible, before Uryuu felt a celebratory hand clap him on the shoulder.

“Well done, kid. You did it.”

“Only just!” Hiyosu chuckled.

“I couldn’t have done it without you. If you hadn’t suggested knife throwing, I’d be out on the street by now.” 

“You were amazing!” Kuna clapped her hands together in applause, her companion following suit.

“You could give Mr Akon a run for his-”

“Don’t you three have work to be doing?” Akon said loudly with raised eyebrows, cutting their voices off. Grinning, the trio stood to attention and gave him a quick salute before returning to their practice. Packing all the kit they had used back into the bag, Akon slung it over his shoulder and gestured for Uryuu to follow.

“Come on, I’ll show you round. There’s a couple more people you should probably meet. And I guess I should tell you how it works round here so you don’t give Kurotsuchi a reason to kick you out after one day.”

As they exited the marquee, back into the backstage hustle and bustle, Akon lit himself another of his signature cigarettes and blew a large cloud of smoke, gazing upwards as he watched it disappear into the sky.

“I guess all that’s left to say is…welcome to the Jyuuni Circus.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you wish to listen to music whilst reading, I wrote this to the official Kuroshitsuji: Book of Circus OST, the official Mirrormask soundtrack and the soundtracks to the Cirque du Soleil shows 'Varekai' and 'Saltimbanco'. I especially love the tracks 'Patzivota', 'Pokinoi', 'Kero Hireyo' and 'Kumbalawe'!
> 
> A big thanks to SpaceGoat, my beta reader, without whom this would have been even more of a train wreck than it already is. And because she'll kill me if I don't say this, she writes BBC Musketeers and Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell fanfics. Check them out.


End file.
